


Congratulations

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous prompted: Mpreg!Blaine. Kurts at an award show and while he accepts his award and prepared to give a speech, his phone goes off and it’s blaine saying he’s in labour. Kurt announces it and then goes to be with his husband.</p><p>Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about the Tony Awards or Carnegie Hall so there are probably glaring inaccuracies abound. Artistic license?</p><p>Originally posted on Tumblr August 15th 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Congratulations

If he was completely honest, Kurt felt extremely guilty about being out in an expensive suit, surrounded by reporters and photographers, making his way down the red carpet at the 74th Annual Tony Awards while his very pregnant husband waited at home, eyes glued to their TV screen, hoping to see him win the award for Best Costume Design, for which he was nominated that year for his contribution to the 2018-2019 season production of  _Wicked_.

He felt guilty because he should have been at home, too, rubbing Blaine’s feet and fetching him heat pads and water and ice cream, not treading the hallowed spaces of Carnegie Hall with the A-List of the musical theatre world. 

But when you’re nominated for your first ever Tony Award at the tender age of 26, you can hardly say no when you’re invited to the ceremony. He’d been dreaming of this moment since he was 16 years old - and besides, Blaine had all but forced him out the door, insisting that he’d be fine on his own for one night and that chances like these didn’t come around often.

Kurt hated it when Blaine was right.

 

“Mr. Hummel, how are you feeling ahead of your very first Tony Award nomination?” a reporter calls out, camera flashing as he snaps a picture which will no doubt find its way into the entertainment pages of the  _New York Times_  tomorrow. 

“A little nervous, but excited.” Kurt replied, feeling genial. “My only regret is that my husband couldn’t come tonight. He’s at home, he’s too pregnant to be here, unfortunately!”

This makes the reporters go wild. 

“Mr. Hummel, how do you feel about impending fatherhood?”

“Do you know if your baby will be a boy or a girl?”

“How far along is your husband?”

The cameras flash blindingly in quick succession, and soon the reporters’ questions and cries become a single mass of jumbled-up words, and too confusing for Kurt to separate one question from another. He bade them goodbye, promising to speak to them after the ceremony, and moved up the line of people heading in the direction of Carnegie Hall. He made a note to make sure no reporters or paparazzi of any kind got anywhere near the house once the baby arrived. He’d fight them off with his own bare hands before they stuck their camera lenses into  _his_  windows.

Then he was inside, and Kurt had to restrain himself from jumping up and down like a small toddler at Christmas because,  _oh my God, I’m in Carnegie Hall, I’m nominated for my first Tony Award and I’m in_ Carnegie Hall _for the ceremony. Is this really happening?_  Kurt resisted the urge to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He really wished he could call Blaine, ask him, “Guess where I am right now?” and gush with him about the grandeur and resplendence all around him, the plush carpet and gold-leaf decor and thousands upon thousands of lights and cameras all trained on the stage, where, soon enough, the most prestigious awards in the musical theatre world would be handed out.

It was a lot to take in.

He really, really wished Blaine could have been with him.

Soon he was ushered into the theatre hall and directed by a small blonde woman working security to his seat. A white placard with  _Kurt Hummel_  on it was waiting on the red velvet upholstery. He wondered if he could take it home and possibly frame it, so that whatever happened tonight, he’d have something to keep and remember it by. 

Silence descended. The awards began. 

Kurt sat impatiently, heart rate slowly increasing, as each award was given out; he clapped enthusiastically whenever the winners were announced, and tried not to let his growing nerves show on his face. Not much longer now….three to go….two to go….one….

This was it. 

“And the winner of the Tony Award for Best Costume Design is….Kurt Hummel!”

Kurt’s shriek of surprise was lost in the roar of applause that erupted all around him. It was a few moments before he remembered he had to go up onto the stage to collect his award -  _oh, my God, I have a Tony Award_  - and sprang from his seat, his hands shaking with excitement, passing the rows of people all cheering for  _him_.

He had a Tony Award.  _He_  had a  _Tony Award._ This moment was definitely going in one of Blaine’s meticulously kept scrapbooks, which recorded every important moment in their lives. It had one of their wedding invitations, and Blaine’s first sonogram. Now he would put this in, too, to show their son or daughter when they were old enough, and their grandchildren, too.  _  
_

“Oh, my God,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth when he reached the stage, stepped up to the podium. “I have a Tony!”

Laughter that was like music to his ears. Kurt completely forgot what he had planned to say; he’d spent so much time worrying over whether he actually would win, he hadn’t perfected a speech for the possibility that he  _did_ , and anything he had come up with flew clear out of his mind. 

Then his phone buzzed in the pocket of his tux jacket, which Kurt would later remember as one of the most awkward moments of his life. To have his phone go off in the middle of the Tony Awards,  _while he was accepting his award_ , was definitely on the list of Kurt Hummel’s Top 10 Embarrassing Moments. (For point of reference, showing up to school drunk his sophomore year and puking all over Miss Pilsbury was number 3 on said list.)

Figuring he had no choice but to answer it, he pulled out his cell and checked the ID. It was a text, and it was from Blaine. “Sorry,” Kurt apologized to the waiting crowd. “It’s my husband.”

_Kurt - my water broke. On way to hospital. Sam and Rachel are with me. Don’t rush over here, everything’s fine. Blaine x PS. Congratulations!_

Kurt stared, bug-eyed, at his cell for a few moments, and then remembered he still had to speak.

“Guys, I totally had a speech prepared and everything,  but I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut it very very short as my husband has just informed me via text that he’s in labour and on his way to the hospital right now with two of our friends. So I guess I only have time to say thank you for giving me this amazing award, I totally wasn’t expecting it, I honestly didn’t think I had a chance of winning but obviously someone thought I did. So thank you so, so much, this has definitely been such a wonderful surprise, and now I have to go because I’m having a baby!”

Grabbing his award, Kurt rushed from the stage, telling one of the security guards at the door to hail a cab, any cab, while he sent Blaine a text asking which hospital he was at. He also sent the same text to Sam and Rachel, just in case he didn’t have his cell or couldn’t use it. 

A Tony Award  _and_  a new baby in one night. Either this was some kind of strange serendipity, or all of Kurt’s wishes were being granted at once. All he wanted to do now was get to Blaine. His priority was being with his husband as they awaited the birth of their child. 

Soon enough, a cab arrived, but he didn’t wait for a guard to open the door for him. He threw himself into the back seat, keeping tight hold of his award, and gave the driver the directions for the hospital, and hoping there wouldn’t be  _too_  much traffic. He didn’t, after all, know if Blaine had been in labour long before his water broke. He could have been having contractions for hours. 

Kurt  _wasn’t_  going to miss the birth of his first child. 

The cab pulled out into the street and sped away, Kurt willing the driver to go faster - although he didn’t say it out loud. Checking his cell every few minutes, Kurt hoped he would arrive in time, and that Blaine wouldn’t be too mad at him if he was a little late. 

Forty minutes later, the cab driver pulled up and Kurt didn’t hesitate, stopping only to push a wad of dollar-bills into the driver’s hand before getting out and half-running, half-walking up the steps and through the front doors of the hospital, heading in the direction of the elevators. Luckily, one had just arrived, and he jumped in and stabbed the button for level 4, the maternity ward, before he had stopped to catch his breath.

He was painfully aware that he was still carrying his Tony Award and  wearing a thousand-dollar suit, his tie askew and shirt rumpled where it had pulled free of his pants. But he ignored the stares and double-takes of the patients, doctors, and nurses as he made his way decisively toward the front desk.

“Hello, I’m looking for my husband Blaine, he was brought in here about forty-five minutes ago.”

The receptionist looked at him. And then looked at him again. Her gaze fell on the award clutched in his hand. 

“Look, I know you know who I am and yes, I  _have_  just come from the Tony Awards where I did in fact win this award, but right now I just want to know where my husband is so that I can be with him when he has our baby. Okay?”

“Certainly, sir.” The receptionist typed a few keys on her computer. “He’s in room 308, sir. And congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Kurt replied curtly, and went in search of the aforementioned room. 

Luckily, it was close; down a couple halls and round the corner to the left. Outside were Rachel and Sam, who both jumped up when they saw him, Rachel exclaiming, “Kurt! You made it!”

“Congrats on the award, man,” Sam said. “Blaine was super happy.”

Kurt couldn’t help himself; he grinned widely. “Thanks. I’m really happy, too. How is Blaine, anyway? Did the doctor say anything about when the baby might arrive?”

“Not much, just that it should be soon. He’s kinda in a lot of pain. He’ll be glad to know you’re here.”

“The doctor said that it should be within the next few hours,” added Rachel. “It happened pretty fast. One minute we were all watching the TV waiting for you to win, and the next Blaine just turns to us and says the baby’s coming. It was like something out of a movie!”

Kurt glared at her, but his heart wasn’t truly in it. “I’m going to see Blaine now. I’ll keep you guys posted.”

Blaine was curled up on the bed when Kurt entered the room, breathing so slowly and deeply that Kurt would have thought he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the way his eyelids fluttered half-open, betraying him. Sweat beaded along his hairline and ran down the sides of his face, catching the fluorescent lighting. He was flushed and clearly uncomfortable, whimpering as he attempted to control his breathing.

“Oh, honey,” Kurt said quietly, mostly to himself, as he pulled off his jacket and draped it over the back of the only chair in the room, putting his award on the seat. “I’m here now.”

At that, Blaine raised his head. “Kurt?”

“Ssh,” Kurt soothed. “I’m here.” He sat on the edge of the bed, smoothed back Blaine’s sweaty curls. “The doctor says it’s not going to be long?”

Blaine shook his head. “Not long. Few hours at most. I’m really glad you’re here. It  _hurts,_ so much more than I thought it would. I’m sorry I pulled you out of your special moment. I know how much winning a Tony Award must mean to you.”

“You honestly think I’d rather be there than here with you?” Kurt asked, astonished; how could that thought have even entered Blaine’s mind? “You’re wrong.”

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out; he groaned, long and low, reaching out to grip one of Kurt’s hands in a vice-like hold. “Fuck. It really, really hurts. I hope it’s over soon.”

Luckily for Blaine, his words were prophetic, for within the hour the doctor examined him and declared him ready for delivery.

It took all of twenty minutes after that for their baby, a little girl with a mass of dark hair exactly like Blaine’s, to be born. She weighed in at six pounds three ounces, and as soon as the attending midwife placed her in Blaine’s tired arms, all thoughts that weren’t of his daughter were clear of Kurt’s mind. He focused on nothing else but her, and Blaine, and their admittedly small but nonetheless perfect family. 

And the Tony Award? Well, that was just the icing on her cake. 


End file.
